Heroes are Made
by clarinetgirl2427
Summary: High school AU. How did our heroes become heroes? What shaped them into being protectors? Who helped them along their paths? What role did high school romance play? This is that story.
1. A Lunchroom Friendship

Chapter 1- A Lunchroom Friendship

**Author's Note: **This story is supposed to focus on all four of the leads, but it may at times lean more toward Finch because he's my favorite. The characters are suppose to be slightly OOC. Remember, they're in high school, so they're not quite our heroes yet.

The first few chapters are going to be setting up the characters before the story really gets started. This story is going to start out slow, so please bare with me.

I don't own Person of Interest, thank your lucky stars. Please review. I like input, it helps me grow as a writer.

-Clarinetgirl

•••

A boy, a junior, exits the lunch line and briefly the cafeteria goes silent. Once he sets his course for the far side away from most of the crowd, conversation starts up again. He is a small boy with round glasses. He wears a tie and vest to school and carries around a briefcase. He knows he's walking around with an intentional target on his back, but he refuses to be someone he's not to appease the barbarians. He is Harold Finch (currently), but his last name is unimportant. The name does not make the man. He knows who he is, and that's all that matters.

Harold Finch sits alone at his lunch table like everyday. No one sits with him because he doesn't fit in. He feels all the eyes staring at him, watching the silent freak. Waiting, waiting for him to bring about their wrath because in their eyes, he doesn't belong.

He finishes his small lunch quickly and retrieves a book from his bag. With the reminding twenty-five minutes of lunch, he expects to finish the last 200 or so pages. The uproar of the lunchroom suddenly lowers, a clear sign of danger for Harold.

Cautiously, Harold looks up from his book to see a black girl, a couple grades younger than him, as she sits alone on the floor in a corner. Everyone watches her for a moment before return to their own business. The teachers are too busy to notice her, but he notices. She has only been at the school for a short time, and no one ever talks to her. He understands she must feel so alone. He knows that pain. After attending the school for two years, he has yet to make a single friend. The kids here can be so cruel, especially to those they consider outsiders.

An unfamiliar resolve fills him as he stands and walks to her, all the eyes burring into him once more. He ignores them and kneels before the girl. Once again, he causes the conversation to an immediate end. She stares at him afraid he is a threat. He smiles at her kindly. "My name is Harold. What's yours?"

Her voice is soft but not weak, "Joss." He seems nice, but she watches him guardedly. She is ready to fight or flee, whichever one makes no difference to her.

He sees her discomfort, but his smile never falters. "Nice to meet you Joss." He stands, "Would you like to join me at my table? There's plenty of room." She nods slightly, unsure of why she's trusting him, and he holds out his hand to help her up. Something in his blue eyes has her take his hand and let him guide her. She feels the eyes on them as they walk, but he doesn't seem to notice.

When they reach his table, he pulls out her chair. As he sits, she asks, "Why do you sit alone?"

He looks down at the table and his abandoned book. "Because I have no friends." The words come without a thought and without any emotion. She can tell, from his eyes, he is sad but will never admit it.

"Neither do I, obviously. I can be your friend." She doesn't know why she said it, but she knows there is something about him. Something different, special. Something mysterious, and Jocelyn Carter was born a sucker for mysteries.

He looks at her. "And I'll be yours." He smiles again, and this time so does Joss.

If she is going to piece together the puzzle, she has to start with clues, and so her inquest begins. "So why would you talk to me at all?"

"I guess because you seemed interesting." He pauses, noticing the twinkle in her eye. "And like me, I thought you could use some pleasant company."

"You're odd."

"I suppose I am. What does that make you?"

"I'm not sure. Odd too, I guess." He returns to his book, and she eats her lunch in a comfortable silence. Comfortable in the knowledge that they are no longer alone.


	2. The After-lunch Rescue

Chapter 2- The After-lunch Rescue

**Author's Note: **This still needs a bit of work, but I wanted it up for Christmas. This chapter brings Reese and Fusco into the story. I can just see Finch hacking into the school computers, that's where this idea mainly came from. That and Reese needed to save someone. I wanted him to have a badass first appearance. (WARNING: He is a bit of a jerk for his for few appearances.) Forgive me, but I'm not great at writing fight scenes. This may feel like this is going down the Finch/Carter route right now, but I assure you it's not. In two chapters, Grace will arrive. Enjoy and please review. (Oh, and for Fusco, think of Randall from Recess. You remember that awesome cartoon.)

Thanks to Personofinterest11 for being the first reviewer. You are officially awesome in my book, and this chapter is dedicated to you. I had hoped to have this chapter up for you sooner, but life sometimes gets in the way. Merry Christmas (or happy holidays, whichever you prefer) to you and the entire Person of Interest fandom, consider this my Christmas gift to y'all, such as it is. (If my southern self made it come off as the south instead of New York, please let me know. I try to avoid it, but sometimes it just can't be helped. Thanks.)

-Clarinetgirl

•••

As the bell signals the end of lunch, Harold notices Joss tense up. "What's wrong?" His concern is evident in his voice, his unfinished book already discarded before him.

"Nothing," she shrugs off his concern and stands to return to class.

He puts his hand on her shoulder. "I'll walk with you, if you'd like." He smiles, trying to reassure her despite his own nervousness.

"Really?" her tone is slightly hopeful.

"What are friends for?"

"Won't that make you late for class?"

"I'm sure my record can survive one tardy."

She returns his smile, "Thanks." She hugs him, and strangely, they both feel comfortable about it. They may have only just met, but there is already a deep, strong connection quickly forming.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to carry my books?"

His smile turns to a smirk as he sardonically replies, "Perhaps another day."

"Do you think you could help me with my homework tomorrow?"

"Sure, what exactly are you struggling with?"

"Oh, everything." She lowers her head ashamed.

"That's okay, I'm sure your probably better at sports than me."

"Yes! Dodge ball is my favorite. It gives me a chance to think, besides everyone always underestimates me to their peril."

He chuckles, deeply from his very core, as he pictures it. "I really must see that someday."

"Do you doubt me?" She glares at him accusingly as the venomous words of her question reaches his ears. Perhaps she misjudged this strange boy.

"What?" He stares at her is disbelief and slight hurt. Quickly he realizes what she must think and apologetically responds, "No, that's not why I'm laughing. It's because I'm absolutely certain that you wipe the floor with them. Serves them right for doubting you."

"I have this suspicious feeling that you understand me better than anyone else I've ever come across."

Cryptically, "Perhaps I do." She looks at him in mild disbelief and awe. He smugly smiles, wholly too happy with himself. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes at her companion. **_I could do worse, _**she thinks as she reassesses her new, her only, friend.

As they almost reach her class, their serenity is broken by a voice calling out. "Hey Glasses," Harold winces as he hears Lionel Fusco's voice, "where you think you're going? You have alotta nerve showin' up here today." **_Of all the brutes I could have run into, it had to be the big mouth. At least the others would simply beat me instead of bringing attention to me. _**Fusco blocks his path. "Weeks wants a word with you concerning your little... arrangement."

The crowd that has formed, knowing the nerd is about to get it, parts making a path for Weeks and two of his thugs who corner Harold against a locker, Joss close at his side.

"Harold? What's going on?" Harold hears the fear she's trying to hide laced in her voice.

Before he has a chance to speak to her, Weeks is on him. "I told you to give me an 'A', not a 'D'. A 'D' is useless."

Joss hears Harold mutter to himself, "I guess you should have earned yourself an 'A' then." Aloud to Weeks, "I had to make it believable, otherwise I would have been caught." Weeks does not miss the thinly disguised insult.

Weeks turns his attention to and glares at Joss. "Who's your little girlfriend? I'd hate for her to get caught up in your mess."

Joss clings to Harold's arm. "Leave her alone. This is between you and me Weeks." Harold gently tries to push her away. "Joss, go on to class."

She tries to protest, "But-"

Only for Harold to interrupt with, "I'll be fine."

"Not so fast." The thug to their right holds Joss in place. Harold forcibly removes his hands.

"She's not a part of this."

"She's with you, to my way of thinking, that makes her a part of this."

Joss looks around the crowd surrounding them, praying someone would step in and stop this, but she knows very well no one will. They're enjoying the show far too much to actually care, and those who should care merely walk pass like nothing is wrong.

In the crowd there is a tall, brooding young man who looks on dispassionately. He only sees a nerd about to be beaten, he doesn't have a view of the other person past the thug. He, John Reese, could simply walk away. **_Let the nerd get pounded, he had obviously brought it on himself. _**So John does turn and begin to leave, preferring not to be late to class over something that doesn't concern him. He's stopped by a pleading voice, not the nerd's, obviously indifferent about whether he is beaten, but his companion's. A girl's voice. Reese's anger starts to boil over.

Fusco finally speaks up, "Weeks, leave the girl alone."

"Who are you to tell me what to do?"

Trying to push Joss through the crowd, "Get to class Sweetheart, you don't want to be caught in the middle of this." One of Weeks' goons grabs him by the shoulder and punches Lionel in the face, then begins to beat him to the ground. The other goon holds a struggling Harold as Weeks shoves Joss hard against the lockers.

Reese knocks a few people to the ground as he violently pushes his way through the crowd. "Get your hands off her before you lose them." Reese shoves Weeks to the ground as his two followers flee, only tough when challenged by someone they know they can take.

The crowd watches in shock as the dark, silent boy grabs Fusco and shoves him toward their largest portion, clearing a path. He jerks the nerd along by his elbow. "Come on unless you want to be pounded."

"Come on Harold." Joss's pleading voice pulls him from his surprise.

"Thank you, what you did was very kind."

"You don't owe me a thing. Maybe for now on, you'll think before getting in over your head Nerd." Reese coolly walks away.

Harold turns to Joss, apologetically, "I never meant for you to be drawn into that ugliness, I'm deeply sorry." She doesn't say anything, and Harold bows his head in shame. "Come on Joss, let's get you to class."

"I can make it from here, but you should go." He feels his heart drop slightly. "Or you'll be late." He is relieved and goes about his way secure in the knowledge he finally has a friend despite the trouble he brought upon her.


End file.
